


The Soul's Scream

by cheyla



Series: WIP Wednesdays [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, BDSM themes, Blood Play, Blood Sharing, Complicated Plot, Creature Fic, D/s themes, Dragels, Dragons, Drama, Elemental Magic, Elves, Fae & Fairies, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Finding Family, Genderfluid Character, Harems, Heavy on the OCs, Hellhounds, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Multi, Mystery, Polyamory, Scioneeris, Slow Romance, Soulmates, TBDH Universe, Vampires, Were-Creatures, mentions of mpreg, wild magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyla/pseuds/cheyla
Summary: A creature inheritance. An Alpha. A possible Beta, until the Death Eaters attacked the Burrow. Now Harry finds himself with a complete Circle and a realization that just because there's a soul-bond, it doesn't mean things will be perfect. Or easy. Quite the opposite, really.Based on There be Dragons, Harry by Scioneeris.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Theodore Nott/Charlie Weasley, Harry Potter/Theodore Nott/Charlie Weasley/Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Original Characters
Series: WIP Wednesdays [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095647
Comments: 23
Kudos: 53





	1. Soulscream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scioneeris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scioneeris/gifts).
  * Inspired by [There Be Dragons, Harry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/485605) by [Scioneeris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scioneeris/pseuds/Scioneeris). 



> A spin-off of There Be Dragons, Harry by Scioneeris. The dragel universe and most of the original characters belong to her. This is posted with her permission (thank you!!!) and features a “what if” scenario about what might have happened if Harry’s soulscream hadn’t been blocked by his seals. Since this is a fanfiction of another fic, I would recommend that you read the original fic first for some background information about the dragel universe and the original characters. Everything regarding the dragel universe and the vast majority of the OCs belong to Scion and I can only hope that I do any of it justice. This particular work starts at around chapter 30 of TBDH, during the attack on the Burrow. 
> 
> In this first chapter, I’ve adapted some of Harry, Charlie, and Theo’s perspectives from TBDH, so if the writing seems familiar in those parts, it is. I don’t claim those particular sections as my writing, but they have been adapted and shortened from the original fic. If future chapters reference or show particular scenes from the fic, I’ll make a mention of it in the author’s note at the beginning of the relevant chapter.
> 
> For those of you who haven’t read TBDH first, I’ll provide some very basic context for things. On Harry’s 16th birthday, he came into a dragel inheritance. Dragels are supposedly extinct in the wizarding world. (Ha!) When he returned to Hogwarts, he picked up on certain things, such as Fred and George demonstrating dragel behaviors, met another dragel named Terius, who is Bonded to Snape and Draco, and Harry Bonded with Theodore Nott. Harry is a dragel Submissive, while Theo is a dragel Alpha. Dragels are known for having “circles” of Bonded (aka mates), so after Bonding with Theo, Harry’s instincts started compelling him to seek out other Bonded. Shortly after Bonding with Theo, Voldemort used something known as Grey Magic to scout out Hogwarts for an attack, and the Hogwarts students were evacuated. Theo went to Gringotts to deal with some of Dumbledore’s interferences. Harry was evacuated to the Burrow, where he met Charlie again and recognized him as a potential Beta, even though Charlie wasn’t dragel at the time. Also evacuated to the Burrow were Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Lavender, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. During the evacuations, Hermione was discovered to be missing. While staying at the Burrow, Harry has been rooming with Charlie and has been helping him with sorting through artifacts for the Order. During this time, a Nytura (imagine a creature like Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon, but smaller) hatched and claimed Harry as his master. Two days after coming to the Burrow, Death Eaters attacked. During this attack, the leader of the group, Thorfinn Rowle, took lethal aim at Charlie.

_Harry_

The spell shot towards him with pinpoint accuracy at the moment that Charlie's blue eyes opened wide. He shouted Harry's name and threw a shield that cracked under the lethal magical pressure. Harry tried to scream, but the shield broke and the curse remnants hit Charlie in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

"Charlie? Charlie!" He bristled with unrestrained anger and the weight that whatever powers that belonged to him were nowhere near safe enough for immediate use, much less for revenge. "Charlie!" He screamed again, aware that he could not run directly to the body, but unable to keep himself from lurching forward towards the fallen redhead. Harry crumpled to his knees beside the fallen body, his distraught hands trembling as they skimmed quickly over the surface of Charlie's clothes and registered the fact that he wasn't breathing.

Charlie wasn't breathing.

For a moment, his throat and chest tightened painfully and the reality echoed.

Charlie wasn't breathing. Not a single breath.

Trembling fingers brushed lightly over the rise of Charlie's nose and closed those, wide, unseeing blue eyes before tracing a shaky outline around his lips.

It hurt.

As if someone had reached inside, ripped his soul out, and set him on fire.

Harry didn't think he could breathe either.

He stared, unseeing.

This was not happening.

This could not happen.

Charlie was his.

Charlie was part of him.

He couldn't live without Charlie.

Harry felt his breath hitch.

Didn't Charlie know that he wasn't allowed to die?

A shudder wracked through this body and Harry opened his mouth as his head fell back. He felt the chill in the air and saw the swirling darkness overhead, but everything was bleak and grey. None of it mattered.

None of it mattered without Charlie.

And so he screamed.

An unearthly shriek rent through the air.

Something shattered.

Maybe it was his heart.

Maybe it was something else.

Either way, the shattering pierced his soul that was already ripped out and on fire. The devastation wrecking his soul expanded outwards.

The harrowing shriek magnified itself.

Rowle didn't really understand what happened when the ponytailed redhead fell to the ground.

In hindsight, he would count it as a terribly counterproductive move on their behalf as immediately following afterwards, the most soul-stirring, heart-wrenching screech filled the air. The kind of screech that made him nearly jump out of his skin, with intent to hide and never come out. It promised horrible, dark things to the one it was intended for.

* * *

_Theo_

"…and so I'd like to ask your help on it. Please."

"Please?" There was a snort from the fuzzy image bearing the woman's face. "Theodore, my dear, you really shouldn't beg, it doesn't suit you." She gave another snort. "I'd be honored. Thank you for asking—very responsible of you to do so, as well, if I might add."

"I have learned something after all these years." Theo retorted, mildly. "So you will come?"

"Naturally. As if I could stay otherwise." She flashed a smile. "I might have to drag some unwanted weight along for the ride, but I'll be there. When would be best? Any particular preference?"

"Not really." Theo admitted. "Just as soon as you are able. I fear the bindings may-ugh!" He shuddered violently.

"Theo? What's wrong, what's going on?"

"…scream." Theo choked out. An agonized scream was wrenched from his lips and at once, the mental connection began to fade as Theo's consciousness returned to his body. He began to jerk and twist in uncoordinated moves before his body curled in on itself. He moaned softly.

"Theodore!" Ilsa's scream faded out as the magic invoked to place the long-distance call flickered out and died.

There was a flash of white-gold energy.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

A small crack in the ground appeared—a few feet away from Charlie and Harry—and a moment later, a great bolt of golden light shot out. It reformed into the tall scowling figure of one Theodore Nott.

A Theodore Nott in full halfling Dragel glory.

He stood tall, fury rolling off of him in tangible waves, clad in only a smooth pair of trim, black trousers, his upper body bare. His thick, dark brown wings, colored with a smattering of golden scales and armored spines, flared out behind and above him, growing exponentially larger than physically possible from such a small body until they towered well over him. His hands and feet were black, curled claws and his eyes, an angry, burning golden hue.

* * *

_Fred & George_

“Charlie? Charlie!”

Of all the names they expected to hear over the bedlam of battle, signifying a new loss on one side or the other, neither Weasley twin expected to hear that particular one.

Not Charlie.

Not the dragon tamer.

Not the one who was willing to face down a rampaging magical beast, whether it be a dragon or their mother.

Not the one who was the calm voice of reason always able to be heard over the chaos in the Weasley household.

Not their brother.

Fred slashed his wand in the direction of the nearest Death Eater as his hazel eyes burned and as his throat tightened. He pushed through the painful twinge starting to burrow into his chest, as he couldn’t let the pain distract him.

Couldn’t let the pain give someone else an opportunity to take him out.

“Charlie!”

“Fred?”

The wizard flinched as he felt a hand slip into his free one and a familiar back press against his. Normally his twin’s presence would be a comfort at a moment like this, but right now it seemed to emphasize what had just been lost.

A brother.

_His_ brother.

“Keep an eye out, George,” Fred choked out as he spotted a Death Eater turn their way through his blurring eyes. He flicked his wand, but a spell was already heading right for the masked wizard.

George’s.

“He’s got no magic, Fred, and he’s not going to be paying attention. We can’t lose him too.”

Him.

Harry.

The only ‘him’ they had talked about since September.

“We can’t,” Fred agreed. “On three! One—”

An unearthly howl erupted above the battle’s tumult, interrupting his count. The painful twinge in his chest wrenched itself into a gaping hole.

Fred glanced down, eyes wide, expecting to see a fist-sized hole or a mark signifying that an enemy spell had gotten through his defense.

There was nothing.

But that wasn’t true.

Even as the rest of his body felt like it was being ripped to shreds, he could feel threads snapping back into place. Threads sewing his heart back together just as quickly as it had been ripped apart by his brother’s death, filling up the empty holes in his soul.

Empty holes that he hadn’t even known existed.

Hearing a choking cry from George, Fred started to turn toward his twin, but something stronger still demanded his attention.

His attention _and_ his presence.

_Sorry, George_.

Fred expected to feel George’s hand slip out of his grasp as the magic demanding his presence at Harry’s side tore him away from the tree he had been using for cover. He truly did.

But when his mind processed that he was standing on firm ground once again, George was still there.

Ready to protect the Submissive that knelt between them, screaming in such agonizing pain.

Ready to protect Harry.

Now they just needed a third, to defend the open gap Fred had already spotted.

And then he was there, with a loud crack and a white flash that neither matched his dark skin or the subtle aura that pulsated out from him as he landed easily on the ground. As his feet touched the ground, large black and gold ombre wings snapped out and encircled them.

All of them.

Fred. George. Harry.

Charlie.

Fred breathed a sigh of relief as gold eyes met his and there was a quick nod, but the sigh quickly grew into a cry of pain as the burning started.

* * *

_Ethan_

“Will you be walking on Thursday or Friday?”

A slender man tilted his head at the question, not quite sure what the woman was getting at. “Doesn’t it have to be Thursday?” he asked. “Only High Nobles and Royals have their Introductions on Friday.”

“If you join the family’s Introduction, then yes, it has to be on Thursday. But Ethan, with your Royal connections, a Friday Introduction could be possible if you decide to walk on your own.”

Ethan grimaced, his nose wrinkling at the thought.

“A Thursday Introduction is fine,” he said carefully. “I didn’t make those connections for a reason like that.”

“But it would be a good decision on your part, wouldn’t it? The second-in-line heiress to the Earth Clans is Hunting this season, as is the Air Clans’ heiress. The Kalzik Clan always has a few of theirs Hunting, and there’s rumors about the Kuroes and the Orsenos. Walking alone would increase your opportunities to get noticed by any one of them.”

“Mera…” Ethan sighed, trying not to whine. All he wanted was a peaceful dinner and to catch up with his siblings on what lectures were upcoming in their departments of the University or from scholars in other realms. Not be pushed to Hunt before the Hunting Season had even started.

“Leave him be, love.” Ethan shot a grateful glance at the mother who intervened on his behalf. Matching gold eyes met briefly and his mother gave a tiny wink before gesturing for the parent sitting nearest to him to scoop another spoonful of rice onto his plate.

“It’s his first Hunt! I want it to go well, especially after he rejected that Calamaris Submissive two years ago—”

“It wasn’t a good fit,” Ethan broke in, pushing around the rice with a fork. “He wanted an Advisor with Royal connections, not another Pareya. I know my talent is for connections and names, but I’m still fundamentally a Pareya and want a Circle that will accept me in that role, not try to shove me into a role I’m not ultimately suited for.” He bit back a whine of distress when his words brought an unhappy frown to his Mera’s face.

“I don’t want you to get a reputation for being picky on your very first Hunt,” she said. “Submissives talk and that particular reputation is a difficult one to lose, even when you come from a rank that’s chosen, not one that chooses.”

Ethan chewed on a mouthful of rice as he turned a tempered gaze onto one particular sister. He knew exactly where his Mera had gotten that idea. His older sister flushed, but shrugged. She wasn’t going to apologize if it hadn’t been proven definitively false yet. Ethan took another bite of rice as he considered how he wanted to respond. Normally he wouldn’t think twice about his response since he was among family, but Hunting Season could be a touchy subject with them at times.

When he swallowed his current mouthful, he had a response in mind. But the words never came out.

As he swallowed, his hand reached up to rub at his chest, where he felt the slightest shift take place within him.

Ever watchful, the action was picked up on by several of his parents.

“Ethan?”

Gold eyes flared as the man’s ears picked up on a scream that only he could hear.

“Ethan?”

The dark-skinned dragel shot a look of apology at his Mera before the pull of the call grew too strong and the magic demanded he be elsewhere.

From the faint delay between hearing the scream and being forcibly summoned, there was no doubt that he was being called across multiple realms.

And yet, the bright white energy faded nearly as quickly as it had arrived, and he was standing on stable ground.

In those first few seconds, there was an assault on Ethan’s senses.

The scent of one fully inherited dragel and three additional scents that were rapidly taking on dragel-tones as well.

The piercing sounds of battle, overlaid with a desperate, haunting wail.

The sight of a still-screaming dragel Submissive kneeling over a taller, red-haired body and guarded on either side by two other red-heads that were going to collapse themselves within a few more seconds.

Instincts surged to the forefront. His wings snapped out and unfurled to circle around the group of four.

It was a risk to leave his back partially exposed in such a manner, without being pressed up against a wall or another person, but it was a necessary risk and Ethan knew that if he had been summoned, others weren’t far behind. Others capable of fighting and guarding his back.

And, if he was lucky, others capable of healing.

* * *

_Quinn & Wikhn_

“And you said there was a soulscream involved?”

Even as Kyle spoke for him, Quinn signed the next steps he was going to take to allow his adopted brother to move out of the way if necessary. He ran a hand through his blond hair as he started to run through the process that was needed to treat a cursed bite.

There was a hiss, a growl, and a sigh that was filled with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation.

“Yes,” a girl barely into her majority responded. “My mentor was supposed to bring me here for the Hunt, but as we were preparing to leave, there was an attack by a clan of made vampires. They had separated us and were talking about who they were going to eat alive and rip apart first and…” she trailed off and shuddered before continuing. “Needless to say, the next thing I knew, my lot had arrived. Of course, in the ensuing battle, about half of them ended up getting bitten in some form or another. It wasn’t an issue for my Gheyos or my few vampires, but apparently it’s a bigger deal when werewolves get bitten by a vampire, despite a few stubborn individuals insisting otherwise.”

Despite the forced cheer in her voice, the Beta and lone Pareya in the room flinched at her sharp glare. Any argument they might have made was quelled by the matching glare that came from their newly bonded Alpha.

_You know, soulscreams are said to be perfect, but this particular one doesn’t seem to match that statement. A vampire Alpha and Gheyo with a werewolf Beta and Pareya? I’m tempted to add them to our regular patient list already._

Kyle glared at the teal-eyed Healer. _I’m not repeating that_ , he said flatly through their mental link. _And if you do, I’m not explaining your reasons why to the Matron. You’re already at capacity for the regular patients you can take on._

Quinn grimaced at the reminder. _Ask them if they’re fully Bonded yet. If so, there’s no reason why the Alpha’s blood—_

Kyle glanced up as the mental voice suddenly cut off. He paled as he caught sight of a brilliant bolt of light snatching Quinn up and porting him away to an unknown location.

“Yeah, it looked a lot like that.” The Earth Fae glanced at the young Submissive, whose glare had fallen into a bemused look.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, forcing the politeness into his tone. “If you don’t mind waiting for a while, I’ll ensure that you’re reassigned to another Healer and seen to today still, but I need to inform our supervisor and a family member of this … development.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as both the Alpha and the Submissive waved him off. “Believe me, we understand, probably more than any other patients” the girl said, and Kyle darted out of the exam room.

“Dahlia? Wikhn?” he called as he shut the door behind him.

“Is it an emergency, Kyle, or can it wait? Because now really isn’t the best time.” Kyle flinched as the woman standing nearest to their door turned towards him. How her voice hadn’t wavered or cracked astounded him, considering that violet magic was sparking off of her and her eyes were filling with devastation and heartbreak. He took a step towards her before forcing himself to stop, knowing that as much as he wanted to comfort her, he couldn’t and she wouldn’t accept his efforts.

“What’s happened?” he asked instead.

“Wikhn—” Dahlia’s voice did crack now. “He was—there must have been a soulscream—”

Kyle felt himself paling even further, even though his breathing eased somewhat. That couldn’t be a coincidence. While that wasn’t fantastic news, at least Quinn had someone he could rely on and who knew about his inability to talk with him. “Him too?” he heard himself asking, before he stopped with a wince.

There was a visible crack from the magic sparking off of Dahlia. Her eyes became an even more vivid shade of purple. “Too? What do you mean by _too_?”

* * *

Quinn flinched as he felt a hand grip his elbow to steady him and turned to face the individual who had landed besides him. Teal eyes widened as they met a familiar set of pink eyes. There was a curse from the other male.

Pink eyes roamed the immediate area and processed the scene, before landing on a set of large, dark wings circled around something close by and starting to take spellfire. Ears quickly pinpointed the ghastly scream from coming inside those circled wings, and Wikhn jerked his head towards the sight.

Quinn’s blond head bobbed in understanding and he darted for the circled wings, instinctively recognizing the posture of a Pareya protecting an injured or incapacitated Bonded. Wikhn followed close behind, drawing his red-and-black-bladed sword in preparation to protect the exposed back. Quinn’s feet stopped short a handful of paces away from where the two wings intersected as he reached inside himself to pull out his Healer’s aura that would hopefully allow those wings to part enough to allow him entry. He grimaced at the sight of three struggling individuals and checked his power levels. It would be a close call whether he had enough to handle three inheritances breaking through.

Funny, they were certainly old enough to have gone through their inheritances already. There was no reason their bodies should be responding in the way an underaged dragel’s body would when their inheritance was forced out.

* * *

_Riven & Bran_

Lavender-hued smoke curled through the air. Images of the future danced in the curls of smoke, changing as the winds shifted and as key players made decisions that voided entire possibilities. The vast majority of the images focused on events that may or may not take place within the next few weeks. The Hunt was always an interesting time, as Clans who rarely came in contact with one another inevitably crossed paths and as certain individuals set foot in Nevarah for the first time in a decade, if not longer.

Maia Kadel was focused on one individual in particular. Riven Cairothe. He was sure to make this Hunt an interesting one if his current planned destination was any indication. She could sense that he was between realms at the moment, heading towards one of the twenty Immortals’ resting places. Only time would tell if he was going solely to verify the Immortal’s presence or to wake the Immortal instead.

Either way, he was ahead of schedule. Maia rolled her neck as the thought process. Good. That eased the burden on her shoulders significantly. That also meant that Riven would visit Nevarah at some point during the Hunt, even if only momentarily. She hoped this visit would bring with it one of the rare opportunities for them to meet face-to-face, since there was plenty she had to say to him.

Especially regarding the current lack of care he gave to his magic and his body.

Maia sighed. She could lecture all she wanted, but the past had proven that nothing would change in the future regarding Riven’s habits and tendencies. He would seek her talents, both in healing and reading the future, and she would give advice that he would heed and warnings that he would ignore, especially when it came to his own personal future and health.

She enjoyed their face-to-face meetings, but many of them left her wishing that Riven would become Bonded already, if only so there would be someone to keep him in line that would also let him unburden his soul just a little bit.

The scrying bowl in front of her shattered, spreading water and shards of glass across the small room. As the sound of glass breaking faded, the echo of a scream hung in the air.

A platinum blonde eyebrow rose in slight surprise. Well, that was unexpected.

Maia turned at the sound of the door to her small room opening and rose to her feet at the sight of one of her Pareya. He became visible and material enough to brush the glass shards off of her dress as she searched his pale eyes for the reason he had sought her out.

“There was a scream,” he said after a minute.

“One of the children?” Maia asked in a quiet tone, her eyes flicking around as she processed the new information. That certainly explained the echo. At the nod of her Pareya, Maia forced herself to ask the next question and braced for the answer. “Who?”

“Bran.”

Maia’s thin, tall form quivered at the answer.

Bran.

Of course it was Bran. Her special child. The one that stood out from the others just by existing.

He was so young, but soulscreams had summoned younger.

“I’ll look for him,” she promised her Pareya. “Stand by, just in case.”

“You don’t expect we’ll be needed?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maia’s thin hand clenched around her ever present pipe and she brought it to her lips. A stream of lavender-hued smoke filled the air once again. She wrapped a hand around his so he could see the visions and directed his attention to an image of her son being guarded by a snow-haired man wielding a tall, blackened staff.

“Not there,” she clarified. “But once they return…”

Bran’s Sire nodded, but didn’t leave her presence, choosing instead to hold her for a moment longer. As Maia relaxed into the rare physical embrace, her eyes rapidly scanned the images on the smoke. Her jaw tightened at the sight of dementors circling in the air. Hopefully the newly summoned Circle would be blessed with Gheyos ready and willing to fight such creatures on their own turf—the sky. 

* * *

_Idan &_ _Minh_

The Dive was starting to get crowded.

It was a detail that was vaguely irritating considering that Hunting Season hadn’t even started yet. Granted, the Dive was always a popular place to be, but the Hunt made it unbearable to be around as amateurs started to try out moves that they would never have tried if it wasn’t for the large number of Submissives that would flock to the spot.

White-silver eyes narrowed and ash-white wings pulled in sharply as another individual landed too close for comfort. The dragel that just landed flinched away under the intense glare, but no words were exchanged.

After a couple of heartbeats, Idan stepped up onto the nearest secondary platform and brought two thin fingers to his lips. He gave four short, high-pitched whistles and then rolled gradually lightening eyes at the rapidly descending swirl of reflected sunlight. It was a pretty sight, but one of these days, Minh was going to blind himself or someone else with those chrome wings of his.

Idan shielded his eyes in preparation for the usual dramatic, blinding landing and the oncoming pout.

Neither came.

Instead, a shudder passed through his body as he witnessed a bolt of light reach out and encompass his partner mid-dive. With a frown, he raised a pale hand and rubbed at his chest, where he felt the courting mark there start to burn.

Then he heard it.

A cry infinitely more desperate and pained than Minh’s had been.

A call that demanded his immediate support and attention.

He braced himself as the portal arrived.

And breathed a sigh of relief when it deposited him next to a pair of chrome wings.

Idan released a soothing trill at Minh’s questioning growl, and then rolled his eyes when the growl turned into a whine. He pushed the taller man forward, giving his approval to initiate an attack against the oncoming spellfire, and then winced as the spells shattered against metal wings and weapons.

Hopefully the others he could feel appearing around him weren’t nearly as dramatic as Minh could be when he was in a mood.

* * *

_Alec_

“Absolutely not! It’s impossible! He can salt me and burn me with the sun all he wants, but I need more if his Majesty wants anything useful to come from an investigation. I wouldn’t go chasing after Kesmar himself based on _that_ information.”

Dark blue eyes glared up into a pair of glinting bright blue eyes.

“His Majesty has determined there’s enough information for an investigation—”

“For a megalodon hunt! That information is nothing! Any searches based on _that_ will either lead nowhere or will result in more leads than there are aqua-kin’e.”

The older Merrow snarled. “Mind your manner, Alec! You think you know better than the King? Need I remind you that you should be grateful that he even deigns to take notice of you? There’s plenty with more experience than _you_ that would be willing to carry out an investigation. If King Alcandor has ordered something, you should—”

“He’s already ordered something. In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m to train Goonter for the upcoming Introductions. Unless you know of another creature-trainer within the Court?” Alec waited for a few seconds before he continued. “Thought not.”

“You insolent piece of kelp—!”

Fluted ears flared at the insult but before he could give a suitable retort, a sharp pang in his chest and the electric jolt of ancient magic—soul magic—entering the water distracted Alec. It didn’t take a genius to put the two together and Alec rapidly shifted into his two-legged form, because there was no telling exactly _where_ he was going to end up. “Kesmar, Kanto, and Poeira’s scales—”

Alec grimaced as a bolt of white light enveloped him, sending shocks of electricity coursing through his body. He now had a more personal understanding of why most Merrow dreaded the summons of a soulscream.

As the magic set him down on solid, _dry_ ground, Alec was infinitely grateful for shifting his form. Of course it would be his luck that he’d end up in a landwalker’s Circle…. Considering how much Fate seemed to enjoy messing with his life, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a Fire type in the Circle as well.

Scanning the area, Alec cursed his luck at the lack of any water source nearby. Hopefully there would be nothing requiring a great deal of magic or power on his part for the next few hours.

The only good thing about this entire situation is that he didn’t have to worry about dealing with Royal demands….

* * *

_Raspen_

Raspen resisted the urge to rub his temples to get rid of the headache starting to form. The Hunt hadn’t even started yet, and he could already sense that there were going to be numerous Clan quarrels and feuds that he would have to nip in the bud if the current arguments were any indication.

The Earth feasts and celebrations wouldn’t be until the near the end of the Hunt this time around and already some of the Earth Court was ready to take up arms over the order of hosting the various events. The current heated debate over hosting on Wednesday versus Thursday had been going on for over an hour at this point.

It was times like these when Raspen faintly resented his Crown Royal status.

The dark-haired man turned weary eyes on Lady Rampal, who was currently driving the argument, getting louder each time she spoke up. He had a feeling that he should intervene, but the plan he currently had in mind wasn’t formed completely yet.

Raspen held in a grimace and a sigh as the ground faintly rumbled. It was definitely time to intervene, whether his plan was complete or not.

“Prince Raspen?” The voice was low, barely audible among the other voices.

A pleasant and neutral look immediately fell over Raspen’s face as he turned his gold eyes on to an olive-skinned man.

“Lord Kalzik,” he said in acknowledgement, keeping his voice just as low. Lady Rampal could wait a few more minutes, he decided silently. He hated admitting that he had favorites in his Court, but the Kalziks would always take priority over the Rampals.

“Is everything okay?”

Raspen gave the Head Healer a bemused look until he followed the other man’s green-gold gaze downwards and spotted his own hand rubbing gently at his chest.

A faint blush crossed his face and he stilled the unintentional action. He hadn’t felt anything until the Healer had brought the action to his attention but now Raspen was growing aware of a faint ache in his chest.

No, not in his chest.

In his soul.

That wasn’t good.

A flutter of panic rose inside him. It wasn’t good at all.

Raspen silently pushed himself away from the table and held his hands in front of him as he walked away from the High Nobles of the Earth Court. It wouldn’t be good for them to see his hands clench and tremble.

He wasn’t ready yet. There were too many things that still had to happen and he couldn’t burden a Circle with that.

Once in the hallway, Raspen took a deep shuddering breath as he heard the door shut behind him. He waved off the Gheyos that immediately surrounded him upon hearing the unexpected sound.

“Prince Raspen?” Gold eyes snapped open to meet green-gold ones and Raspen gave Lord Kalzik a wry smile. Of course the Healer would have followed.

“It’s—” Raspen’s words cut off with a choke as he felt the summons start to begin. His eyes snapped over to the Gheyo ACE in the group, needing to let the head of his guards know what was going on, so the other dragel could initiate the appropriate response. The depth of the Earth magic inside him allowed the Royal to hold off the summons long enough to choke out a few more syllables. “Soulscream.”

Then the Earth Royal let the summons pull him across several realms and deposit him in the midst of a raging battle.

Gold eyes scanned the area and Raspen started to tally the ranks that he could immediately pick out. Alpha. Pareya. Gheyos. Mage. Merrow. Companion.

Raspen grimaced. He didn’t like their current odds. He took a few steps closer to the Storm Mage, breathing a bit easier as a familiar scent reached his nose. He was pleasantly surprised when he put the name to the scent. Maybe their odds weren’t as poor as he initially feared.

Still, he hoped more Gheyos were being summoned. The soulscream still pierced through the air, so more individuals were definitely on their way.

* * *

_Brishen_

It was something other than the chirps and twitters that he had come to expect in the background of his work.

It was something more than a howl that accompanied Death.

It was a cry that demanded Life.

And it was a scream that summoned him in a way that only the Divinities had been able to do until now.

Blue eyes snapped open.

A hand reached up to grab the spear that was pointed at his throat the moment he had moved.

Brishen saw the white-blue magic coming for him before it enveloped his entire being.

As the magic wrenched him away from the room he had called home for the past several centuries, Brishen focused on the spear his hand clenched and started to count the lives it had taken during those centuries. The task drew his thoughts away from the mixture of Ancient and Soul magic that determined he was a suitable fit for whatever came next.

Focusing his thoughts was critical at this moment in time.

Focusing his thoughts prevented his lips from solidifying into a beak and kept his feathers from taking over his hair.

As much as his instincts demanded that he do so, Brishen knew from the pure desperation of the cry, from the demands given to both Life and Death, that breaking out in feathers would be the last thing anyone needed when he landed.

So he focused.

And aimed his spear when his feet hit the ground.

* * *

_Devrim_

“You’re not seriously considering staying here? I wouldn’t have wasted my time with you if I knew you had a death wish. You’re not ready.”

A dark hand ran through shaggy black and and dark brown hair as a stocky man turned to look at his larger companion. “And where would you have me stay, Oret?”

“With the Clan?”

A loud, high-pitched laugh burst forth at that idea before a broad hand clenched and the sound cut off abruptly.

“Why not?” his companion demanded. “The Clan’s done nothing but treat you well—”

“Laya stabbed me the last time I stayed with the Clan,” the shorter warrior interrupted. “It punctured a lung. And you say I have a death wish.”

“To be fair, Devrim, you did steal her portion of the kill a few hours before.”

Devrim rolled his dark eyes that were rapidly lightening to a mixture of red and purple. The blood and magic emanating from the Pit was starting to pull at instincts that hadn’t come out since he had started traveling a couple of days ago. “To be fair, _Oret_ , I hadn’t eaten all week. I needed something and the kill was _fresh_.”

“Right… Mentor. I still don’t know why your father demanded I take that title and responsibility,” his companion said with a sigh.

“Probably because you’re one of the only ones that was qualified.”

His mentor snorted at the comment. “I’m nowhere near qualified, by dragel standards.”

“You’re nowhere near qualified by _anyone’s_ standards.”

Devrim was quick enough to dodge the head slap but failed to pull his head out of range before surprisingly long fingers gripped and twisted his ear. He bit back the high-pitched whine that threatened to break forth. He held his breath for a few seconds until there was a harsh pinch and the fingers drew back.

“What about connections on your other father’s side?”

“They won’t let me inside the Empress’s boundaries until Ren arrives and I’d rather avoid the Shadow Haunts altogether. The magic makes me twitch.”

“The magic makes you—Iansã, you have an affinity for that magic!”

“I also have an affinity for the Storm, and it wants to come out. Unless you want the entire Shadow Haunts’ population to drown in the resulting thunderstorms and hurricanes?”

This time Devrim was fast enough to dart away from the fingers aimed for his ear.

“What about them?” his mentor asked with a frown. “The family… Circle of your foregone Bearer?”

“They’re never an option.”

“Devrim…”

“Trust me, Oret. They’re never an option.” Red-violet eyes met black eyes. After a moment, Devrim’s mentor turned away.

“I still don’t think the Pits should be an option.”

“Again, where would you have me stay instead?” A hint of exasperation entered Devrim’s voice.

“I’ve been making connections while you’ve been playing messenger. One of Lady Pai’s training circles has a Storm ACE—the Black Dahlia herself—and a Shadow King. If you’d let me make an introduction—”

“No.” Devrim’s voice turned cold.

“No?” There was a dangerous undertone in his mentor’s voice, but Devrim steeled himself as he responded.

“No,” he repeated, then choked. His head tilted to the side and a soft squeal emitted from the back of his throat.

At the drawn out sound, his mentor stiffened. “Devrim?” he asked carefully, and then bit back a whoop as he saw spots start to break out across his student’s arms, shoulders, and back and a small mane of fur sprout from the back of his neck.

Devrim’s squeal continued as a desire to find and fight for the one crying out for him started to burn in his blood. To protect him. To guard him.

To die for him if necessary.

Red-violet eyes bled pure black and instinct took over as he felt himself being yanked away from the entrance to the Pits and to somewhere unknown.

A loud crack of magic marked his arrival.

An even louder crack of lightning made his presence known to his currently unidentified enemies.

* * *

_Hadrian_

Fingernails-turned-dark claws dug into the palms of his hands as he watched the ongoing duels. Key word, _watched_.

His claws broke through the calloused skin on his hands and the faint scent of blood drifted upwards.

Hadrian ground his teeth together, forcing himself to stay still. He knew what Mariana was trying to accomplish, preventing him from participating in any fights other than the bare minimum training that was needed to keep his abilities and talents honed.

She was trying to drive him mad—mad enough to consider doing something he otherwise refused to do. Looks inwards. ‘Reflect’ on the things he was running from.

She was in for a long wait and Hadrian was anticipating a long ban from the fighting arenas and the weekly duels that the Cunningham Circle utilized to continually reinforce and reaffirm their ranks.

It would be torture to not be able to indulge his instincts that were normally soothed by a good, bloody fight, especially since it was nearly Hunting Season and that was always a guarantee that there would be newcomers and challenges to face in the Pits. But he could handle torture. It would take more than that for him to do as Mariana commanded—at least for this particular command.

Hadrian purposefully avoided the dark glower that the Cunningham Submissive was now aiming in his direction. Something had drawn her attention to him—again—but whether it was the scent of blood from his hands or the pure defiance he was struggling to keep out of his temporary bonds with her, he wasn’t sure.

His jaw clenched even tighter when the doll-like woman moved to approach him. For all of her delicate and innocent-looking appearances, she could be vicious when she wanted to make a point and he had a feeling their upcoming encounter would be anything but pain-free for him. However, he had no desire to make whatever punishment she decided to inflict upon him a public spectacle, even if only the Cunningham Circle was currently present in the practice grounds, so Hadrian attempted to block anymore of the defiance he felt from reaching through the temporary bond between themselves.

And it was only because he was focused on his bonds that he felt the new one click into place and rip itself wide open. Dark eyes widened as his soul picked up on the first hints of the scream that forced the new bond into place and commanded his presence.

Unlike Mariana’s command, this was one that he could not fight against.

As a white light engulfed him—no doubt blinding many in the practice grounds and attracting the attention of others moving about the Shadow Haunts—Hadrian felt the battlelust flooding his system. His shadows shifted restlessly, just as eager to fight and rage as he himself was. As the battlelust took over, a dark grin appeared underneath his mask.

For the first time in weeks, he felt _alive._

* * *

_Charlie_

Fire burned him everywhere.

_I'm being burnt alive. It feels like a dragon's fire. How fitting._

Charlie thought, darkly amused as he felt himself drifting deeper and downward to the shadows that beckoned him to the underworld. He didn't really want to die, but of course, that wasn't really much of an excuse for anyone who wished to live. His mother would no doubt be stricken and heart-broken, his family would somehow fashion together a stronger bond in spite of his absence, in his memory. Everything would be fine, whether he came back or not.

But Charlie Weasley did not want to die.

In fact, now that he could think of it—and it was surprising to find thought as a current, active process in his given state—he wondered how long it took to die.

It seemed to be taking quite a long time.

An unearthly screech nearly deafened his ears.

It demanded that he remain among the living, challenging him to dare to live even as darkness loomed on the horizon.

His heart leapt and throbbed, frantically beating as if doing so would return him to life.

His soul ached, longing and burning to answer that eerie, haunting cry.

That cry that called to his very core.

Pain exploded and race through him in a way that he'd never before experienced.

As his own personal hell began, Charlie lost all ability to think coherently. He was vaguely aware of the pain after what seemed like an eternitybut there was so much of it, that he no longer was able to process the feeling.

Everything ached. Everything burned and everything just plain hurt.

He knew he was living, somehow, but it seemed as if time had slowed and stopped to allow him this special treatment.

His hands were on fire and at some point, he looked at them, horrified to see that they had morphed into deadly, curled claws. The coppery tang of blood and bile lodged in his throat and he felt the fire rushing through his veins as a foreign substance attempting to overpower the blood that kept him alive. Lines and circles of fire blossomed on his back and centered about his shoulders.

And then, it stopped.

It was almost like someone had flipped a switch.

He'd died. That was the only logical conclusion.

Charlie knew he'd died, but then, he'd lived.

He was alive.

At least, he didn't feel very dead.

The pain settled in him as aches in his very bones and a hot, irritating heat feathered around his neck and shoulders.

Blue eyes popped open with startling clarity and Charlie heard the shouts and cries around him.

_Yes, most definitely alive._

* * *

_Harry_

Harry wasn’t sure what hurt more—the scream tearing through his throat, the magic burning through his veins, or the impact of whatever his voice had shattered piercing his entire body. For a second, he glanced down, expecting to see shards digging into his skin, but there was nothing.

No, that wasn’t true. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw flashes of bright white light all around him. The scream coming from his throat cut off as he raised his head to see what spells were aimed at him now.

He choked out a small cry when he found Fred and George standing on either side of him. He shifted to block the sight of Charlie’s body, as there were some things that he instinctively knew that they didn’t need to see. As he shifted, the sound of unfurling wings and the sudden darkening of the immediate area surrounding Harry caused his cry to turn into a choking breath of relief. The sensation of being surrounded by wings felt like a warm, comforting embrace, and the feeling was only enhanced by the fact that he could no longer see the battle raging around him.

Harry shuddered and tears streamed down his face as a light trill rang through the darkened space, covering up some of the lingering sounds of battle. It was a sound intended to be soothing and relaxing, but those were the last emotions he wanted to feel right now. Didn’t they know that Charlie was—!

Feeling something brush against his body, Harry’s fangs surged forth and he twisted to sink them into the nearest body part he could—a shoulder. He choked on the foul-tasting blood, but refused to let go. Those around him were his and while he’d already lost Charlie, he refused to lose any others without doing something!

At the feel of a second body nearly collapsing onto him, Harry’s fangs released the shoulder within their grasp as he twisted the other way and latched onto that other person’s shoulder. He whined upon the second taste of that foul blood, as something just wasn’t _right_. Green eyes opened in confusion. Blood was supposed to be something good, something that brought life and magic. It wasn’t supposed to be so … repulsive.

A small stream of light entered the dark space and Harry’s breath caught as his eyes spotted a sight that he never expected to see again. Life-filled blue eyes and a chest that rose and fell. His fangs parted as he gave a loud chirp of surprised delight and Harry pulled his Beta’s body closer to him, eager to finally claim Charlie as his own. It nearly hadn’t been possible, but now that it was again, Harry wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass by. Once Charlie’s upper body was arranged halfway on his lap, Harry nearly folded himself in half to allow his fangs to claim his Beta’s neck. He choked for a third time on blood that didn’t taste quite right, but neither that nor the two sets of fangs settling into the biceps of both his arms deterred him from making a permanent claim on the body under him.

A set of foreign fingers lightly traced Theo’s claim mark on his neck. With a snarl, Harry pushed himself to his feet to deal with the one daring to interrupt his claiming, unintentionally headbutting the other person in the process. The other figure stumbled a few steps and brought his arm across his chest to shield it from the defensive Submissive Dragel. Instead of sinking into a vulnerable chest or neck, Harry’s fangs gripped tightly onto a pale bicep.

And then Harry started purring. If his other three had something disturbing lurking within their blood, this blood certainly made up for the foul, repulsive tastes. It was sweet, light, clear, and refreshing, with an ambrosia-like quality to it. The magic that ran through the blood was strong, nearly as strong as Theo’s, and provided an extra form of reassurance. He would definitely be safe with this individual beside him or standing behind him, provided he could ensure that this individual would stick around. Harry’s eyes clenched shut and he bit harder as he felt slender fingers wind through and grip his hair.

_Well, you’re certainly a biter…_

Harry tilted his head slightly as the sentence rang through his head. Those weren’t his words, so where had they come from?

During his momentary confusion, the fingers gripping his hair tightened and carefully pulled his head away from the lovely bloodsource. Harry whined as he felt his fangs leave the firm bicep and his body was forced to straighten and steady itself on his feet. He was guided a few steps forward, where strong arms wrapped around his waist and back.

Emerald eyes snapped open to meet pure golden ones. Harry let out a questioning chirp, which was answered by the same light trill he had first heard only a moment ago. Then, the golden-eyed man tilted his neck to reveal a greater expanse of dark skin and gave an inviting chirrup. Green eyes glittered in understanding and Harry happily slid his blood-covered fangs into the bared neck. He barely winced when he felt the other man’s own fangs pierce his shoulder, just below Theo’s claim mark. After a few heartbeats, Harry relaxed and let his weight rest on the other as he continued to feed.

After a few minutes, Harry drew his head away with a small sigh and tenderly licked the newly-formed claim mark, watching it heal. Once satisfied, he shifted to turn in those strong arms and gladly accepted the assistance until his back was pressed against the man’s chest and he could see the other four within the darkened circle of wings.

If it wasn’t for the arms still supporting him, Harry would have collapsed in relief at the sight of Charlie being pushed to his feet by a blond figure sporting a fresh claim mark on his bicep. Teal magic flowed steadily into both Fred and George as black and burnt orange tattoos started to form on their skin. With a small smile, Harry reached out his hands to beckon Charlie over to him, not even bothering to hide the relief that flooded him at the sight of Charlie on his feet. Roughened warm hands closed over his smaller ones as Theo’s familiar voice rang through the air.

“Temptrificus Portgas, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Great Hall!”


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Scion once again for letting me work within her marvelous universe and with her OCs!

Theo scented the air, scowling but inwardly cringing at the heavy smell of blood and spellwork that made distinguishing anything else near impossible. His scowl darkened as he waited the necessary heartbeats that it would take for the others to come. The fact that it was taking even that long for the others meant that some of them were coming from very far away. However, the soulscream’s summons hadn’t even faded by the time he spotted the sight of Harry over Charlie and between two other Weasleys.

Three Weasleys. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Only Harry.

Temporary claim marks started burning into his skin and scales as the expected ports arrived. The dragel tried counting them, but after he reached ten, he was forced to let out a hiss and a chant to manage the sudden overload of—pain? Emotion?—that came from bonds starting to form and the claim marks settling for the time being. “Terris Makindor. Brindus. Terris Sukey. Brindus. Terris Alomath. Brindus. Brindus. _Brindus_ ,” Theo hissed under his breath. He could not lose control right now. He _could not!_

A weak chirr drew his attention away from his inward struggle to retain control of his instincts and towards the struggling Nytura only a few feet away from him. “Shh, little one,” Theo soothed as he released some of the excess magic that twisted furiously within him. Some of it closed the hole in the ground from which he came. A portion of it went towards healing the partially burned Nytura, as it scrabbled up his leg and side to rest on his shoulder. A larger portion went towards repairing the damage that his Circle-mates were causing as they handled the remaining Death Eaters and dementors. Theo forced his gaze away as a particularly violent shadow literally pulled one dementor apart.

Those Circle-mates were definitely the Gheyos and at least one was Shadow-kind.

Probably for the best, considering Voldemort’s obsession with his Submissive Bonded.

Theo used the Nytura’s claws gripping his bare shoulder to ground him as his golden eyes surveyed the scene. Despite invoking the Brindus bonds he held, his body still trembled as he struggled to stay in control and to not let instinct take over.

The dragel Alpha snarled as one of the other dragels in his line of sight shifted, moving closer but also behind him and out of his line of sight. That dragel rumbled soothingly and wrapped a steady bracing arm around Theo’s middle, but shifted accordingly so that he was beside the young Alpha, not behind him. In his peripheral vision, Theo took in chocolate-brown hair and golden eyes.

Earth dragel.

Normally that would be enough to soothe his raging instincts, but Theo could pick up on a dominant aura and _that_ was unsettling more than the fellow Earth element was soothing.

 _He_ , Theo, was Alpha. Harry had selected Charlie as Beta. The other Earth dragel wasn’t Gheyo, so he couldn’t have been ACE. In normal circumstances, there shouldn’t be another dominant aura in the Circle.

In normal circumstances. Theo bit back a groan and a growl. He needed to toss out the thought of anything normal. This was his and Harry’s Circle, and Arielle and Merlin both knew that normal didn’t apply when Harry was involved.

“Let me brace you, Alpha,” a soft voice reached his ears. “Focus on what you need to and let me ground you.”

With his rank being acknowledged without challenge, Theo’s instincts settled and he focused on the other side of his periphery. A blue-skinned dragel had assumed a protective stance over a smaller form that was—fluxing?

That wasn’t good.

That wasn’t good at all.

At least that particular Circle-mate was being protected by another, despite the reluctance in the protecting Merrow’s stance and his lack of wings to form a shield if necessary. 

Merrow.

Theo bit back another groan.

A Merrow in the Circle. With the three Weasleys.

Golden eyes flicked over to where Harry last was, but Theo’s vision of his Submissive was blocked by a massive pair of black ombre wings shielding the small group around Harry.

The bracing arm around his middle tightened ever so slightly. “They’re fine for now,” the Earth dragel beside him murmured. “They aren’t alone. There’s—Riven.” A faint flicker of surprise and recognition from the dragel reached Theo, who grunted and turned golden eyes past the Merrow and fluxing Circle-mate to a white-haired, nearly translucent-skinned dragel wielding a staff and brimming with lavender-hued magic. Even from a few meters away and the sounds of battle raging around him, Theo could hear the crackle of Wild Magic.

“ _Temptrificus Saurenth!_ ”

Theo started at the faint cry, but the words spurred him into action.

Temptrificus. Portal. They were drawing too much attention, especially considering they were in the wizarding world in a wizarding battle. Dragels were supposed to be extinct here. It had probably been less than a minute since the soulscream, but with the damage dragels could do when enraged or feral, that was probably even too long.

Theo let out a sharp whistle to draw the Gheyos back, and once they were sufficiently close enough and away from anyone else, he released another wave of magic to start a portal. It would be a rocky one, since he hadn’t ported as many people before as he needed to port now, but they needed to be well away from the Burrow when the fall-out over everything started.

Golden eyes snapped over to meet a pair of twinkling blue eyes. A growl slipped out from between Theo’s fangs, but the dragel Alpha didn’t let Albus Dumbledore deter him from getting his new Circle out of danger and to one of the few places he knew would be safe.

“ _Temptrificus Portga_ s, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Great Hall!”

* * *

As the blue light of the portal faded, those still standing were nearly knocked off their feet by the backlash of lurching energy. Theo grimaced at the jerky and unsteady landing, but it had been expected, considering the number of people within the portal. It had actually gone _smoother_ than he’d anticipated, which caused him to glance next to him at the Earth dragel, whose arm was still wrapped around his middle. Another Earth type had fed power into the portal to smooth it out, and the aura contained within the power indicated that it hadn’t been just _any_ Earth type.

There was no time for questions, however. As soon as the portal completely dissipated, there was a flurry of activity as wings retracted and two individuals tackled another three. After a heartbeat of hesitation, another person joined the fray.

 _Gheyos_.

The single word rang in Theo’s head as he tore his gaze away from the group and focused on the sight that the retracting wings had revealed. _Harry._

His Submissive Bonded was upright, but being supported by a tall, dark fellow—the one with the wings. From the fresh and slightly bleeding claim mark on the fellow’s neck, as well as the various scents of blood trickling into the air, it was clear to Theo that Harry’s instincts had taken over at some point.

While not ideal, that fact brought some relief to Theo. Harry’s instincts had taken over a few times during the short period they had been Bonded, but after his first interactions with Terius, the fact that Harry didn’t use or necessarily trust his instincts concerned the dragel Alpha. Sometimes Theo had wondered if his Bonded’s dragel instincts were still suppressed or cut off somehow.

At the sight of emerald green eyes sliding shut and Harry’s body slumping forward, Theo jerked away from the Earth dragel bracing him, his feet automatically moving towards the younger, now unconscious dragel. He was aware of two bodies following him, and the other Earth dragel separating from him to go to a now-conscious but instinct-driven Charlie Weasley, but his primary focus was on Harry, who was being gently laid onto the stone floor of the Great Hall.

“—think it was too much.” As Theo approached, the words reached his ears. At first he thought the words were directed at him, but movement on his periphery and a very distinctive scent in the air told him that the words were also meant for someone else. A blond dragel hovering over Fred and George was watching closely; the sluggishly bleeding claim mark on his bicep introduced the smell of pure Healer’s blood into the immediate vicinity, labeling him as a Healer.

Healer.

Theo blinked, golden eyes lightening a shade. Well, that was a fortunate turn of luck. It was good to know that they had _some_ luck on their side; with Harry involved, there always seemed to be more bad luck than good.A full-blooded Healer in their new Circle was definitely a good thing and would be very useful to have around—not just because of Harry, Theo thought with a wince as his ears picked up on the sound of a body being flung into one of the House tables, sending splinters of wood flying.

With a soft growl, Theo knelt besides the unconscious Harry and pulled Harry’s upper body onto his lap. The dragel Alpha let out another, louder growl when he saw another set of hands reach for Harry.

“I’m _helping_!” a voice snapped, but the hands withdrew slightly. “I can sense his shattered seal from here, so unless—”

A hiss cut the voice off, but not from Theo. From the Healer.

Theo’s gold gaze focused on the white-haired dragel with the lavender magic—the speaker. As he watched, the other dragel let out his own hiss.

“ _Arielle_ , what are you trying to do? Stay out of my—seriously? You’re _that_ one?”

Words at that particular moment seemed to be too much for Theo, but thankfully someone else also had questions.

“Riven?”

Lavender eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name, before the white-haired dragel scowled. “I’m fine. _It’s_ fine,” he bit out. “Kalzik, get out of my head. It’s not pleasant for either of us.” Those comments were directed at the blond Healer. “Use that one—” The white head jerked towards the dark-skinned dragel hovering over Theo, “—if you must. And yes, I said shattered seal. From what I can tell, it’s stable, so go back to whatever you were doing to the others.”

Theo cut off the responding snarl from the blond Healer with a growl of his own. He kept his gold eyes focused on the other dragel, until it was clear he was going back to treating Fred and George Weasley.

“Stable?” Theo forced the word through his lips a few seconds later, turning his attention back on Harry. He wasn’t thrilled that the Gryffindor was unconscious, but if it allowed him a few minutes to gather his thoughts together, he wasn’t going to complain too much about the fact.

“Good, we’re talking. Maybe you aren’t as far gone as I thought.”

There was an exasperated sigh, followed shortly after by, “ _Riven_.”

“Yes, stable,” the white-haired dragel growled out as he shifted closer to Theo and Harry. “ _Miraculously_. I’d say that it was the toll of the soulscream and the portal shortly after that made him black out, and nothing caused by the seal shattering. _Somehow_.”

Lavender eyes glowed faintly, before Riven flinched and pulled back with a hiss. His reaction resulted in a chorus of responding growls and louder hisses. “Arielle,” he muttered under his breath. “Truly miraculous. Kalzik, you’re not going to believe what I’m seeing. I hope you have no big healings planned for the next few _weeks_. Is there anyone here that knows how he was functioning before today?”

Theo opened his mouth, prepared to demand answers and information, but before any words could leave his mouth, he was interrupted.

“If we’re doing the healing thing already, can someone handle _this_ one? They aren’t the only ones that need to be seen to.”

The voice was haughty and irritated, but Theo picked up on the faint trace of worry underneath the words and tone. He turned his attention to the blue-skinned person—the Merrow—and the other dragel he had taken charge of.

The Merrow reached down towards the other, but the smaller dragel rolled away at the last second, hissing out, “Don’t touch me!” before letting out a pained whimper and started fluxing again.

The Merrow’s hand drew back, his face shuttering at the words, and Theo frowned. That voice sounded _young_ , cracking as if the dragel was still in the midst of puberty and not fully into their inheritance. Theo gave a jerky nod to the dark-skinned dragel hovering over him, answering his whines to help with a silent order. He tensed as the soft, reassuring presence drew away, and his frown deepened as the fluxing dragel repeated his words in the same young voice as the Pareya tried to help. Through the barely fledged bonds, Theo forced what little calm and reassurance he could to the fluxing dragel, shivering at the pure fear that flooded back to him in response.

Definitely young. Too young to be dealing with this right now.

At that moment, Theo’s eighteen years had never felt so old.

And he had never felt so inexperienced.

He wasn’t ready to have a full Circle yet. He’d had a plan! Yes, things had changed since his Bonding to Harry, but he had _never_ expected having a complete Circle before he was twenty. And now, with Harry’s soulscream, he’d had no choice and he was _completely_ out of his depth and—

The magic in the air of the Great Hall shifted, and Theo relaxed as a familiar wave of magic washed over him, closely accompanied with a few other pulses from other auras. The magic was so familiar to him that he knew what was happening, even without the words of warning.

“Portals incoming!”

 _Ilsa_ …

* * *

Theo was on his feet before the blue light of the first portal had even faded, shifting Harry from his lap into the arms of the lavender-eyed dragel and forcing himself to ignore the wide-eyed look his action garnered. He pushed his way through the small group, briefly sparing a glance towards the Gheyos. _His_ Gheyos now, he supposed. They seemed to be in control of themselves now, much to his relief. If there was one thing that Theo knew for sure, it was that his mentor—a one Lady Ilsa Gorgens—would not appreciate being challenged in any way by another Gheyo, especially since he was involved.

The Slytherin didn’t bother to hide his relief, not even when Ilsa’s portal was followed by two others in short succession. The three portals brought twelve newcomers in all, all of them braced for conflict. It was easy to tell who they had followed, since all but two immediately searched out that particular individual with their eyes. Theo twitched slightly as the gaze of another Alpha immediately landed on him, and instead forced a small smile onto his face when familiar golden eyes met his after first sparing a glance towards the Gheyos.

“Oretta,” Theo greeted the stocky woman with a clear voice, and stepped towards the woman. She did the same, before taking a few more steps and wrapping him into a tight, bone-breaking hug. Their greeting caused the other newcomers to break away and greet their own respective charges.

“Theo,” she breathed. “You had me worried. I take it there’s no immediate danger?”

“We’re away from the conflict that triggered the…” Theo’s voice was muffled as he spoke into Ilsa’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s something,” the female Gheyo muttered. “And everyone’s fine?”

At Theo’s tiny flinch, Ilsa’s arms around him tightened. She tugged him down more, so she could look over his shoulders from the direction he had come.

Ah. She understood his reaction as she took in the mess that her mentored student and unofficial son had found himself in. One unconscious, one reacting _very_ badly to the soulscream, one practically feral with new instincts, and two seemingly having to deal with their inheritances being forced out. And from her first assessment of the Gheyos, three that were just coming into their senses again and a Joker, which was a Gheyo who was always going to be slightly on the edge of feral.

Ilsa’s gold eyes honed in on a pair that she pegged as having followed after her. One was standing guard over the other, who was starting to provide medical attention to the dragel closest to him. She focused her gaze on the guard, a broad-chested, dreadlocked man whose mere presence alone seemed to be enough to convince two of the newly-Bonded from interfering or hovering any closer than they already were. It took a few heartbeats, but the dreadlocked dragel’s dark gaze slowly flicked over to meet hers and when there was a small pause in the activity, his foot nudged his charge.

A green head jerked up at the action. “What is it, Bharin?” the younger man asked sharply. He waved a hand over the figure he was treating, containing the Changeling’s fluctuations for the next few minutes and allowing the boy the opportunity to gain control. Once the spell took hold, the form of a boy was revealed, no older than fourteen.

“I think a status report would be appreciated, and you’re the best one to do so right now.”

A tanned hand ran through his green hair and the Medic rolled back onto his heels. “He’ll be stable in a few minutes. It’s more shock than anything else. According to Quinn, everyone will be stable in a few hours and will be fine overall eventually, but there are some things that need to be handled in Nevarah, preferably sooner rather than later.”

Ilsa quirked an eyebrow and allowed Theo to draw away from her at the comments. She hadn’t heard any communication between the green-haired Medic and the blond dragel she was assuming was a Healer. Interesting.

“Things such as?” Theo asked, quickly regaining his strength after his momentary wobble with Ilsa.

The green-haired Medic glanced back at him before answering. “Full physical exams, to make sure the soulscream didn’t trigger anything unintentionally, such as underlying curses or seals. Blood purification rituals—three of them. Seal removals and treatment for a shattered seal, which likely means a Soul Cast—wait, Quinn, do you mean removing the shattered seal or seal removals in addition to the shattered seal? The second? Arielle, really?”

“Mental connection?” Ilsa guessed from besides Theo. “Wait, blood purification rituals? Blood traitors?”

Bharin, the dreadlocked Gheyo besides the green-haired Medic, nodded in reply to her first question. “Quinn—the blond one—is mute. He and Kyle,” He gestured to the Medic, “Have been a Healer-Medic pair for a few years now. Kyle acts as his voice, when necessary.”

Things started clicking into place for Theo. Some of the white-haired dragel’s comments and reactions made sense now with that information.

“I believe,” a soft voice broke in, “That before we get further into any conversations, introductions would be helpful, especially if everyone wants to be on the same page sooner rather than later.”

Theo glanced at the speaker, the dragel Alpha whose eyes had immediately landed on him after arriving. He resisted the urge to shiver. Not just any dragel Alpha. A Gheyo Alpha and a Shadow one at that.

At the words, the Earth dragel soothing Charlie Weasley got to his feet and nudged Charlie closer to the still unconscious Harry. “Lord Cunningham, your presence here is a surprise,” he said, greeting the Shadow Alpha.

Dark eyes widened as recognition flared in their depths. “Not as much as yours, Prince Raspen,” Lord Cunningham replied.

“My prince,” Ilsa automatically murmured, tilting her head downwards in a small nod. She snuck a glance over to her mentored student. Theo’s face was impassive, but she could feel the flickers of astonishment coming through their mentor-mentee bond. Her lips twitched a fraction upwards and her shoulders started to relax.

With the names like Lord Cunningham and Prince Raspen, there really was no need to be concerned about secondary attacks or getting back to Nevarah before too many became magically exhausted. Between her, the _de facto_ leader of the Shadow Clans, and the Crown Prince for the Earth dragels, they could probably handle any situation that could happen in the next few hours. Ilsa’s lips twitched again. She suspected that Theo was going to have his hands full with his new Circle. If Raspen’s presence was any indication, the rest of the introductions were sure to be… interesting.

* * *

A few minutes later, everyone present was gathered together. Quinn was off to one side, still having to monitor the Weasley twins. According to him via Kyle, their inheritances were nearly completely out, but the physical and magical changes hadn’t settled yet. Until they did, there was too much risk for Quinn to leave their sides.

Theo found himself pressed in on all sides, as instinct was still running high in most of the people present. Charlie Weasley was leaning against his side, with Harry laid across their laps. It was a very obvious statement, but one that Theo wasn’t going to complain about. It would be for the best if Harry woke up in the next few minutes, since he would wake up to two faces he would recognize, not a stranger’s.

On Theo’s other side, sitting a foot away was one of the Gheyos—the ACE, if Theo could read the aura and body language correctly. He should be able to, considering Ilsa was his mentor. The woman was one of the most famed Gheyo ACEs in Nevarah, after all. Ilsa seemingly approved of the other ACE present, if her silence was any indication. She wasn’t one to hold words back or mince them if she had a problem with someone.

Next to Charlie was Prince Raspen. A quick spell by Quinn had ensured that Charlie was no longer borderline feral or completely controlled by his instincts, but being close to Earth elementals was also helping him remain grounded. Sat between Theo and Raspen, there was plenty of Earth magic in the air to allow Charlie to push some of his new instincts to the background; Ilsa’s presence at Theo’s back also helped.

Close to Raspen was the white-haired dragel—Riven, he had been called a few times. He and Raspen exchanged a few words in whispers, their familiarity with each other apparent. The rest had positioned themselves slightly further away, but Theo kept note of who was sitting close to whom.

All but two of the Gheyos kept well away from each other, interspersing themselves between others. One was on the very fringes of the group, much like the blue-skinned Merrow who was scowling ferociously a few feet away from him. Another one was whispering furiously with a female Gheyo that had ported in with Kyle—Dahlia was her name and she just so happened to be Ilsa’s eldest daughter. The third was practically hovering the dark-skinned Pareya with the black ombre wings. The Changeling teen leaned against the Pareya tentatively, shivers racking his body occasionally as he tried to calm down. His presence was wreaking havoc on the Pareya’s instincts, as every time a shiver coursed through his body, the Pareya’s hands would reach up to soothe it away, but the teen would either hiss or jerk away, blatantly rejecting the idea of any help. The rejections seemed to hurt, and the Gheyo kept shifting as if debating whether to intervene or not. The constant shifting and the fluxing of the Gheyo’s eyes between black, red, and violet made Theo uncomfortable, but he bit his lip and forced his gaze to move on to the final pair of Gheyos. They were the only Gheyos that had stayed together and the taller one nearly wrapped himself around the other. By the lithe figures and the white hair, both were likely Air types, but one had distinctive Elfin features. Theo inwardly frowned as he caught a glimpse of the Elfin dragel. There were a few present that had unnaturally pale skin that bordered on translucent, but that dragel’s pale skin was unhealthily so. He knew that Battle Elves from the Air Clans were nearly always pale, but they still had some color to them. But this dragel… if he hadn’t been moving around and talking to the other Gheyo wrapped around him, Theo might have thought he was dead.

Fifteen. Harry made sixteen. If Theo included himself, there was seventeen.

Seventeen. Harry had been adorably reluctant to add a third when he and Theo first Bonded, so Theo knew he was bound to freak out upon learning how large his final Circle was. Theo himself wanted to protest at the large number—he’d only expected a Circle of around ten or so—but instead, he thunked his head lightly against Charlie’s.

“I know it’s confusing,” he said in a soft voice so only Charlie could hear him when blue eyes met his. “There’s a great number of things that will need to be explained, but it won’t happen immediately. However, it will be, so trust me for now. You, myself, and others will talk later, but let me handle the introductions during the next few minutes. Just focus on Harry.”

Charlie gave a small nod and turned his eyes down towards Harry. Let Theo talk. Focus on Harry. That was simple enough. He could do that.

There was still something that niggled at the back of his mind, however.

“Shadow?” he asked, voice hoarse. At Theo’s questioning sound, Charlie frowned, trying to remember what Harry had called the creature Charlie had smuggled to the Burrow in egg form. “The Nytura?”

“Up by the rafters that the house banners hang from,” Theo said after a few seconds. “Its name is Shadow? Harry’s idea?”

Charlie nodded again.

The Gheyo on Theo’s other side made a noise at the back of his throat. “You have a Nytura. Named Shadow,” he said in a flat voice.

Theo gave a small smirk. “It’s Harry,” he replied. “Harry has his own unique brand of … luck.”

“The ‘Harry effect,’’ Charlie mumbled. “That’s what Fred and George call it. If it wouldn’t normally happen, it’ll happen to Harry.”

The Gheyo looked unimpressed behind his mask.

“And your name is?” Theo asked pleasantly.

The Gheyo scowled. “You first,” he said, a hint of challenge in his tone. At his words, the other conversations in the Great Hall quieted down.

Well, there was no avoiding things now.

“Theodore Nott,” Theo announced to the room. “Gorgens-Nott,” he corrected when Ilsa cleared her throat. “Harry Potter,” he nodded down towards Harry. “Charlie. The twins are Fred and George.”

“No surname?” Ilsa asked lightly.

“You wouldn’t know it,” Theo returned in a similar tone, seeing through her ploy. “They’re wizard born and raised.”

“Mentors?” Raspen asked.

Theo sighed. That was the question he had been dreading. “There are none,” he stated.

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo saw Quinn turn sharply at that. The blond mouthed some words and a thick black choker formed around his throat. “None at all?” The voice was light and clear. “Not even for—Harry, you called him?”

Theo raised an eyebrow. The words were unexpected coming from a _mute_ Healer.

The words also triggered immediate reactions from Kyle and Bharin, who were also monitoring Fred and George.

“Quinn!”

“ _Quinn._ ”

“Cancel the spell, Quinn!” Kyle looked somewhat distraught, while Bharin’s expression was pure disapproval. “It’s too dangerous, and I’m right here!”

Brilliant teal-colored eyes rolled. “Extenuating circumstances, Kyle. It’s less confusing this way, which is needed right now. No mentors whatsoever?”

Theo nodded and added a plan to get the information about the spell Quinn was using from Kyle later on. One thing at a time.

“I understand the three redheads,” Quinn said sharply. “There’s evidence of three-fold suppression being used on them, but for all the seals Harry has on him, none of them were of the suppression sort that would prevent a mentor from being assigned to him.”

Theo’s eyebrow arched even higher. All the seals? “Harry’s mentor never showed,” he explained. “No sign whatsoever. I’ve already requested an inquiry, but I’m not sure how far things have gotten. I myself didn’t learn about that fact until less than three weeks ago.”

Raspen sighed. “It wouldn’t have gotten very far,” he predicted. “Everyone has been preparing for the Hunt. It starts within the week. Almost everything has been focused inwards, on matters within Nevarah. That’s not good though, if his mentor never showed.”

“An understatement,” Ilsa agreed, scowling. “Your name, over there?”

“Quinn Kalzik. Healer. Earth type.” The words were recited as the type that had been said routinely over the course of one’s life.

Theo’s gold eyes flickered over to Raspen, prompting him to go next.

The Royal gave a slight grimace. “Raspen, Crown Prince of the Earth Courts,” he said reluctantly.

Charlie lifted his head from Theo’s shoulder slightly at the title. He had never heard that particular title before, but from the visible startled reactions and widening of eyes around the room, it was a significant one. From the quiet power radiating out from the older man, it was probably one that was well deserved and earned as well.

“Riven Cairothe,” the lavender-eyed dragel beside him spoke up, before any questions could be asked of Raspen. “Spellweaver. Realmwalker.”

Theo turned his attention to the Gheyo on the fringes of the group. He was dark-skinned and dark-haired, so the piercing blue eyes stood out. He appeared to be in his late thirties, but with dragels, one could never know. Except… he wasn’t a dragel, Theo realized. “Brishen,” the man said. “Gheyo Joker.”

“No surname?” Ilsa asked, repeating her earlier question.

Blue eyes darkened. “Not anymore. Fairly sure it’s been officially stripped from me by now.” The words were spoken with such finality that it was clear there would be no more information forthcoming.

Attention turned to the Merrow a few feet away from him. Light blue skin flushed purple under all of the attention, and his scowl deepened. “Alec,” he said curtly. “I claim no surname, but that’s a personal choice.” The second part of the sentence was directed at Brishen, who let out a hiss that had an avian hint to it.

“Ethan Hartwood,” the dragel with the black ombre wings spoke up before insults could be traded between Brishen and Alec. “Pareya. Earth type.”

The teen leaning against him perked up slightly, the weariness on his face lightening a touch. “Hartwood? As in the scholars?”

Ethan gave him a soft smile. “Yes, those Hartwoods,” he confirmed. “And your name is? Or names?”

The teen grimaced and tilted his head forward so long silvery-blonde bangs shielded most of his face. When he spoke, it was a near whisper that still managed to carry through the air. “I normally go by Bran. Brynn, in the other form. I come from the main Kadel branch.”

Riven took a closer look at Bran and raised white eyebrows when he placed the familiar features.

“Kadel?” Kyle questioned from beside Quinn, looking up. “Prophecies?” He winced as Quinn jerked an elbow into his sternum.

“ _Not_ my area of expertise.” The reply was immediate and Bran’s voice lost its whispery quality.

“Ignore him,” Quinn said, teal eyes glaring at the green-haired Medic. “He talks too much.”

“Quinn!”

Ethan cleared his throat and turned his gold eyes upwards, towards the Gheyo that was practically hovering over him and Bran. He grit his teeth to suppress a whine as he took in the visible scars. Some scars were to be expected on Gheyos, especially experienced ones, but he couldn’t imagine how some of the scars he was seeing were received. Especially the long white scar across the throat that stood out on skin that was even darker than his own. When the Gheyo’s eyes took on a bright magenta-violet hue and Bran shifted nervously besides him, Ethan knew he hadn’t been successful at keeping his whine entirely silent.

“Devrim. Ekene,” the Gheyo said curtly, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Friendly, aren’t you?” a high, airy voice remarked. The speaker, another Gheyo, shifted slightly as sharp fingernails pinched his side below his ribs. He tightened his grip slightly around the Elfin dragel in front of him, a silent apology of sorts. “Minh Shiae.” He thunked his head on top of the smaller Gheyo in front of him. “Idan Kaelior. Patrol Gheyos normally. Air types.”

Theo pursed his lips to keep from asking a few questions that likely had obvious answers and he turned his eyes on the next Gheyo. Introductions were nearly through and then maybe there could be some actual conversations and plans made.

“Wikhn. Dark Fae.” The flash in the magenta eyes didn’t match the neutral tone in the voice. Theo gave an internal sigh as a spark of amusement flowed through the mentor-student bond that he shared with Ilsa and he wondered what he’d missed. If Ilsa was amused by simple introductions, then he was sure to have a headache later on.

Finally, Theo turned hazel-gold eyes onto the masked Gheyo sitting next to him. He was vaguely irritated to note that while he’d asked the Gheyo’s name first, it was going to be the last name given.

“Hadrian Maruke, hired Gheyo for Lord Cunningham and his Circle.”

Two of the other Gheyos, Wikhn and Devrim, shifted slightly at the name. They looked almost excited once their minds connected the name to the face—er, mask. Theo looked beyond Hadrian to where Lord Cunningham and his partial Circle were listening from the shadows.

“Blood Raven,” Ilsa murmured, now letting her amusement color her tone. Idan and Minh’s heads turned towards Hadrian, more interested in him once they heard the title leave her lips.

“Blood Wraith,” Hadrian replied in return, with a neutral nod in her direction.

A blood title. Well, that was … a fortunate turn of luck, actually, Theo decided. Between Prince Raspen’s presence and Harry’s unique brand of luck, the Circle was going to need Gheyos that could hold their own and a blood title meant that the Gheyo holding it was a force to be reckoned with.

“Is he still out?” Riven asked gruffly and nodded at Harry when Theo lifted an eyebrow at the question. Hazel-gold eyes glanced down and his fingers stilled when Theo realized that they had unconsciously been tracing the scar on Harry’s forehead. “The portal wasn’t that horrible, all things considering.”

“Says you,” Bran murmured and turned his head so he could press his forehead into Ethan’s sleeve.

“All things considering?”

All of the Gheyos in the room tensed at the growl contained within Ilsa’s question, but Theo only rolled his eyes upwards and tilted his head back to look at Ilsa more fully. “It _was_ a soulscream, Oretta,” he reminded her. “In the midst of battle. It wasn’t the best situation to end up in. And not everyone is _you_ , able to port over a dozen others without any bumps or rough landings.”

Ilsa snorted and tossed her short, two-toned hair at his response. The tension in the Great Hall eased slightly. “He’ll be fine,” she said, sparing a glance down at Harry. “I don’t think I’ve heard about _any_ Submissive that’s managed to stay conscious after giving a soulscream and then giving in to their instincts. A soulscream is said to be incredibly draining—physically, mentally, emotionally, and magically. The recovery time will depend on—”

“Magic sensitivity, power levels, and element,” Quinn finished, getting to his feet and turning towards the Circle. Kyle and Bharin stayed near Fred and George as the Healer approached. “I could give an estimate, but I would need some background information on—Harry, was it?—to be more accurate.”

“If I knew, I would share,” Theo said with a sigh. “In addition to his mentor not showing up, Harry says his magic has been missing since his inheritance over the summer.” He smiled slightly as Charlie nodded in confirmation. “Wizarding and elemental.”

“Pardon?” Teal eyes widened slightly at the news. “ _And_ elemental?”

Theo nodded. “He can access my element now, and has my password for my reserves, but before that, there was nothing,” he said. “No affinities. No inclinations. _Nothing_.”

When Theo’s body underneath his head stiffened, Charlie’s eyes flashed upwards. Ilsa’s golden eyes had turned black and Quinn’s teal ones flickered with blue-gold tints. The air thickened and Charlie whined.

* * *

Harry snuffled sleepily as the low murmur of voices invaded the soft darkness of his sleep-filled mind. His snuffles turned to a whine as thin, roughened fingers traced the scar on his forehead with an air-light touch. When the fingers withdrew, Harry shifted slightly so he could burrow his head into the warm mass that covered one side of his body, away from the curious fingers. He gave a faint growl when a second set of fingers poked him in the side. He clutched soft material in his fingers and squeezed his eyes together tight. He didn’t want to be awake yet, especially since he was sleeping so peacefully for once.

The warm mass serving as a pillow rumbled softly. As Harry realized that it was a voice and he was likely using Theo’s chest as a pillow again, he forced himself to wake up just slightly so he could listen in.

“—stop and let him wake naturally … rather _not_ be bit or gouged—”

“Oh, hush, it’s fine. _You’re_ fine. You just don’t want him to move off your lap, because that means you’re next.”

“It’ll be better for him to be awake as long as possible before the portal back and there’s some things that I’d rather take care of here, before something else comes up and while I still have some decent power and time remaining with this spell.”

Harry’s brow furrowed and he clutched the cloth in his fingers tighter. He didn’t recognize any of the three voices, but no sense of alarm rang through his body. Quite the opposite, in fact. He felt completely at ease, secure, and _safe_ , especially when a pair of arms pulled him closer to the chest his head was laying against.

The brunet snuffled again, taking in the scent of the person. It was a soft and subtle scent, vaguely reminding him of almonds, honey, and incense. Definitely not Theo, who had a distinctive scent of oranges, chocolate, and steel. The realization faintly bothered Harry because even mostly asleep, he was aware that he was currently in a fairly intimate position, but his instincts remained unruffled. Besides, his throat ached and the honey tone to the man’s scent became a temptation too great for Harry’s instinct-driven mind, especially when there was a patch of bare skin within reach.

The arms around Harry tightened as fangs sank into skin and a foreign-sounding word was hissed out. The brunet gulped down a few mouthfuls to ease his raw, sore throat before the taste registered. Emerald eyes shot open and he pulled away with a cough, chest heaving as he struggled to sit up but was kept in place by arms that had become unmovable bands of steel.

A few snickers rang through the air as Harry pushed futilely against the pair of arms. He wasn’t able to move them, but eventually he managed to push himself into a more upright position.

“No need to ask if you need your potions anytime soon.” The voice was higher-pitched, with a breathy quality to it. “That reaction alone says you’ll be good for a while.”

Harry twisted to look at the speaker. He had sharp, angular features, long white-blond hair elegantly tied back, and vivid green eyes that shimmered playfully. A friendly smile appeared on his face when he caught Harry’s green eyes on him and one of the eyes winked. “His is an acquired taste. You get used to it, I promise, but it can be a nasty shock the first time. In the meantime, I can make up for it.” Another wink. “Pureblood.”

Harry let out a questioning chirp as the man drew razor sharp claws across his arm at the elbow juncture. A thin line of blood trickled out and the green-eyed teen pushed against the arms restraining him again as he caught the sweet, heady aroma. To his surprise, they withdrew but Harry didn’t waste any time questioning the development. Within a matter of seconds, he had scrambled the few feet to the arm being held out towards him. He practically purred as the warm liquid ran down his aching throat. This was the relief that he had been seeking. After the first few mouthfuls, he tuned back into the conversation as his instincts began to settle.

“Potions? And stem that bleeding! You don’t look like you can afford to lose any blood.”

“It’s complicated and I’m _fine._ Completely healthy and no injuries from the battle, so you don’t need to waste any time and magic on me. I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t.”

“As a currently practicing Healer, I think I can keep up. And from a Healer’s perspective, you don’t look anywhere _close_ to healthy. And taking potions is a sure indicator that you’re not as healthy as you claim to be!”

“It’s an Elf thing.”

Soft laughs came from behind Harry. “It’s an Idan thing,” the high-pitched voice corrected. “And you can’t judge how he’s feeling from the color of his skin—he’s always that pale. My recommendation, if you’re going to insist on checking him over, get him on his back and sit on him. Otherwise, you’ll end up chasing him all over this hall, including up into the rafters and ceiling.”

“Minh!”

Harry released the arm under his fangs and laved the gradually darkening mark gently with his tongue. The blood had taken the edge off of his instincts for the time being and his mind began to race as rational thoughts started to take over. Taking a moment to organize them and to figure out which questions he wanted answered first, he focused on the arm in front of him. There were a few starburst scars scattered across it, with other scars crisscrossing between them, forming some sort of pattern or design.

“Pretty.” Harry glanced up and the other man nodded at his elbow and the new mark. “It matches the scars well.”

“Who are you?” Harry’s voice was rough and cracked at the end of the question.

“Oh good, words. That’s a good sign. The name is Minh. I’m a Gheyo, if you were wondering.” Green eyes flashed with faint worry when Harry’s brow furrowed at the unfamiliar word. “A fighter. I see your—our—Alpha wasn’t lying when he said you didn’t know a lot.”

Harry’s head lifted. “Theo?” he asked, looking around. He blinked as he took in the sight of the Great Hall and a few groups of people scattered throughout it. When did he get here?

“By the entrance.” Minh nodded in the general direction. “His lovely mentor dragged him over there to discuss a few things after moving you to Idan’s care. Called it a trust exercise and said it was needed, given everything that happened. Once they were done, she left to take care of—some things—and he and the others started making plans for the near future.”

“What exactly did happen?” Harry murmured, as his eyes landed on Theo. The Slytherin seemed exhausted, but focused. He was leaning against one of the Great Hall doors and was conversing with several others, but his eyes kept flickering over to the wall behind the Slytherin table—to what, Harry couldn’t see.

Minh hummed and the shimmer in his eyes dulled. “To answer that, I need to know what you last remember,” he said slowly. He shifted slightly, an obvious nervous tick, and Harry tensed.

“The Burrow being attacked,” he said. “Battle. Death Eaters. Charlie being hit— _Charlie_!” The brunet tried to get to his feet and glared at Minh as the other man held him down, practically keeping him pinned to the floor.

“Your redheads are fine,” Minh said quickly. “They’re _fine_. But you don’t need to see what’s going on and we can’t interrupt right now. If you don’t want the barriers to come down and for everyone to lose their heads, we can’t cause a commotion.”

Green eyes continued to glare up at Minh. “What. Happened?” Harry hissed.

“Does the term ‘soulscream’ mean anything to you?”

“Should it?” Harry ground out, still struggling to get up, but to no avail. The other male was simply too strong. His strength was slightly unexpected, given his lithe figure and delicate-looking facial features.

Minh huffed out a sigh. “If it doesn’t, then I’m out of my depth. Explanations aren’t my forte.” He gave a soft whistle and the argument taking place a few feet away stopped suddenly. “Idan, a trade? The Healer for me?”

“The Healer for—?” a light and clear voice sputtered out.

In the blink of an eye, Minh moved and was no longer beside Harry. Instead, there was a ruffled looking blond, with wide teal eyes and a faintly disgruntled expression. Harry looked around and saw that Minh had pinned another man on one of the House table benches. Green eyes widened slightly when he realized that Minh was actually _straddling_ the other man. There was nothing innocent about that position.

At a loss for words, Harry searched out Theo again and slumped in relief when he saw the Slytherin push away from the wall and head directly towards him. Two others broke away from the small group to follow, but Harry had eyes only for Theo. His Alpha.

“Harry, treasure,” Theo murmured, kneeling down in front of Harry and pressing his lips to the brunet’s forehead, directly over the lightning bolt scar.

“Theo,” Harry sighed happily and leaned closer. “What happened? What’s going on? Why are we at Hogwarts? The Burrow—Charlie—”

Theo pressed a finger to Harry’s lips and another kiss to the forehead. “Charlie’s fine. Fred and George are fine. Everyone’s fine. I’m not sure exactly what happened—there’s some things that only you can tell us—but from what I surmise, you saw Charlie get hit and reacted by giving a soulscream.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Harry warbled, but his fingers clenched in Theo’s shirt. The way Minh had said the word and now Theo … It didn’t sound like a very good thing.

“Do you remember the cry you gave before you and I Bonded?” Theo asked, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. Harry gave a small nod. “A heartcry. It’s one of three dragels can give when they’re building their Circles and calling their Bonded to them. A soulscream is another. They happen when a Submissive dragel like yourself is in extreme pain or distress.” At Harry’s whimper, the Slytherin rested a reassuring hand on the back of the Gryffindor’s neck. “When a soulscream is given, it pulls all of your soul-bonded from wherever they are to your side.”

Emerald eyes widened and Harry stiffened at the insinuation. “So everyone here?” he asked, voice squeaking at the end.

Theo chuckled. “No, not everyone in the Great Hall,” he answered. “Soulscream portals are rather … distinctive, you could say. Some here are family or friends or other connections who followed to see if they could help.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Then how many?” When Theo tensed, Harry sat as straight as he could with Theo’s hand still wrapped around the back of his neck. “Theo, how many?” he asked firmly.

“Besides me?” Theo said softly. “Fifteen.”

The blood drained from Harry’s face and his breathing quickened.

Fifteen.

In one moment of pure desperation and panic, he had upended and ruined fifteen other people’s lives.

Harry whimpered.

**Author's Note:**

> Vocab List:
> 
> Dragel - Elemental dragon-hybrid  
> Gheyo - Fighter  
> Mera - Mother  
> Merrow - Water dragel  
> Pareya - Protector  
> Oret - Mentor


End file.
